


A Private Branding of Sorts

by yasuragi



Category: Rurouni Kenshin
Genre: F/M, Gratuitous Smut, Married Life, Not Beta Read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-28
Updated: 2016-10-28
Packaged: 2018-08-27 11:22:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8399773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yasuragi/pseuds/yasuragi
Summary: In which an adoring kenjutsu couple relishes in the fruits of being honest with each other





	1. Chapter 1

They talk about their fantasies in bursts, at random, throughout the entirety of their marriage. And it isn't to say their shared bed lacked in creativity. Truthfully, Kenshin had no idea his heart and body could ache for more beyond the daily treasures of love and lust he and his Kaoru shared with each other. Sometimes, chaste kisses before she began her lessons, hidden just out of sight of the dojo, thrilled him. Occasionally, the swell of gratitude when he would find a new bottle of choji abura on top of the kitchen counter overwhelmed him. But more often than not, the layers of reserve and hesitation that fell away when they melded together behind closed doors set him ablaze.

Kenshin shares his first, with Kaoru splayed across his chest, her leg draped across his waist, held by his open palm gently stoking the space where her bottom and thigh meet. Kenshin loves mid spring nights like tonight where crisp air and a mild temperature are comfortable enough to settle over their naked bodies without any need for cover. 

Kaoru has a penchant for idle chatter as they wind down with steadying breaths and cooling skin. He used to feel a sense of responsibility to answer to her usually one-sided conversation, and often danced around how and when he should humor her with a comment. These days, he pets her head contentedly as his wife's whispers fill the room's silence and her lips brush against his skin. As words become sounds, he lets his focus recenter on the pressure of her facial expressions against him as she mulls over when nashi will be in season again. ("The crisp green yellow ones, Kenshin, those are the best," she muses. "Not those golden ones. Those bruise too easy! I can _look_ at them and they'll brown at a glance!") He feels the faintest frown crinkle into a pout and hums noncommittally. 

His eyes shut as she continues, thoughts about her pretty mouth flutter under his lids. He knows her face by heart, memorized every single shift in her emotions from fiery rage to upset to awed to elated, and even though she was unabashedly expressive, reading her true feelings always came down to the tilt of her lips. Beautiful, plump, slightly chapped lips that have only known the taste of his own. He finds a deeply possessive thrill that every kiss, nip, suck belonged to him. And while she has certainly become more skillful in how she uses them against his face, hands, neck, he fixates on how they feel around his length and— 

"Oro!"

"I _said_ ," Kaoru chides, retracting her finger from his rib, "Something's on your mind." He grows a deep shade of red as he stumbles back to reality.

"Only thinking, koishii."

She tilts her head up and gives him a disbelieving glance. 

To her surprise, he squirms. Pauses. "Just, daydreaming, that I was." With a pout, she follows his eyes as they settle on her lips and the slight twitch between her thigh convinces her otherwise. She shoots him one look, that one look with an edge, with an unspoken "out with it" and he concedes. 

"Perhaps, fantasizing, so I was. About how. It would....please this one greatly. If-if Kaoru-do— _Kaoru_ , would take this one in her mouth."

"Mou!" She slaps him as her eyes roll. She could feel the retired honorific reverberate deep in his chest. She resists the urge to bait him on it—even in their early years of marriage, she's grown to learn that referring to her with honor, especially when they're in private, is her husband's way to preface that his words and thoughts have struggled to make a truce. "That's not a real fantasy! We've shared that before."

"No no," he says as he plants a kiss atop her head. "What this one means, is, well, all of this one's length," it rushes out and he gulps, "all at once. Until the end."

She nods, silently, and licks her lips subconsciously. Then resumes her monologue about fresh strawberries and a wish for chocolate. Kenshin knows better than to assume the subject change is a blatant dismiss. If anything, he would bet is wife is storing the concept somewhere in her mind. Deep in her bank of things only she has been and will only be privy to. 

So, it doesn't come up again for a long while. But he's progressively starting to notice a steady uptick in sunomuno prepared with dinner. And lunch. Sometimes breakfast. 

He figures harvest must be bountiful this year. And Kaoru's always had a pleasant rapport with the local vendor. The farmer had helped keep food on her table long before his wandering led him to the Kamiya dojo, after all. She makes no mention of the dish, so he lets it go; at least her seasoning has improved greatly. 

Kenshin considers suggesting to pick up some more sesame oil one night and rolls over on the futon as the shoji door opens. Kaoru is dressed in her darker sleeping yukata, a telltale sign of her moon cycle, and he smiles as she settles into bed. They like to trade places holding each other and tonight, Kaoru prefers to crowd his body with her own, his back to her chest, her legs tucked behind his knees and her hand slipped under his yukata. He's sure it must be a funny sight of anyone ever came past them, but he doesn't mind in the slightest. Kaoru has always been a safe haven, a gentle warmth, a protective force, so in his book, curling within her arms feels as typical as when she is in his place. 

She traces her hand across his chest lightly, chasing goosebumps as they form, her touch grower bolder as he responds in kind. Her other hand snakes it's way between them and he chuckles as she slowly loosens the knot at his waist. She peppers his neck with kisses as her fingers flit over his pelvis towards his growing erection. 

She wraps around him now, steady pressure, up and down, until she's satisfied with the weight in her hand. She leans him back as she moves down and around until her face is level with his very insistent member. Her hands and mouth join in tandem around him and he sighs. The sweet heat of her mouth engulfs his tip, then half way, and before he realizes, he feels her bottom lip against his base. He holds his breath, feeling her tongue strong underneath his full shaft and he chances a glance down. 

He nearly chokes at the sight. 

And while it's his fantasy, his crotch buried against her face, his cock hitting the back of her throat, Kaoru is in _full_ control. Her forearms atop his hips lock him in place with a force he can't possibly fight against, no matter how insistent his thrusts grow to be. His strength wanes as her hands smother his hips, slip up and around his arousal, caress his sack as she breathes steadily, heavily, through her nose. And he lets her lead, lost completely in the sensation of that pretty little mouth working him into a stupor. 

Gods, he wonders, how his wife manages to be the most giving person under the sun, as she flicks her tongue wickedly and her head continues to bob. He attempts to reach for her breasts, match her fondle for fondle but she grabs his wrist and huffs out an emphatic noise of disapproval as she guides both hands to the back of her head. He takes the cue and offers shallow thrusts and feels the moan vibrate all the way up his spine. She continues her smother, slip, caress routine with wet fingers and increasing pace as her cheeks hallow. They fall into a rhythm, both completely lost in the overwhelming feel of the other.

The usual gentle crest of his unraveling instead bursts behind his eyes and he feels the wave begin to crash with an intensity he's never felt before. He attempts to untangle Kaoru from the impending finale, but she feels it, too, and reaches around his waist to pull him deeper. Kenshin groans loudly then whimpers as his ever-determined wife milks the last of him until he collapses, boneless and spent.

She lies on top of him, his limp sex lingering between his lips and he hums as she giggles. It pains him to know he'll have to wait a few more days before reciprocating, and though she'd never admit it, that may or may not have been the driving factor for Kaoru's timing. She finally makes her way up and around, back in her position beforehand, and relishes in her heavily sated husband. 

"I'm a lucky man, that I am," he utters just before dreamless sleep whisks him away.


	2. Chapter 2

Kaoru follows with hers not long after. They had just walked out of the bathhouse, freshly washed, hair both tied up in loose braids (Kaoru's doing) as they continue in step across the yard. "I, mm, this morning was something else." She dimples, looking down and he smirks, thinking about languid strokes, both lying on their sides, his whole body pressed into her back as their gentle spooning from the night before unfolded in their awakening. "Do you think it would be much different of you took me from behind somewhere other than on the futon, husband?" 

Now, once the dojo clears out and it's just the two of them, Kaoru speaks frankly about sex, emboldened by his very frequent encouragement. He may tease her about her cooking and cleaning, but never dares to challenge her curiosity of their intimacy. It makes his temperature rise and his blood pool the way it excites him. For Kaoru, it's become as natural as her kata, and honestly, another extension of her unwavering trust in him. She talks about what she likes, what she doesn't, so a part of him is surprised she brings this up. Granted there are positions they favor. In fact, Kaoru finds her way above her husband in one way or another. He loves it most when she bucks wildly while he matches the pace she sets from underneath her. And they switch it up every now and then, but he's certain he's flipped her on her stomach at least once before...

Kenshin blinks. Images of raven hair unraveling from a low ponytail flicker by, crystallizing as he enters a taller woman on all fours in front of him. It's a blurry snapshot of life long since passed, but his body seems to remember with clarity and he shivers at the memory. Kaoru doesn't catch it, surprisingly, so he collects himself and his hand finds its place at the small of her back as they close across the yard. 

Kaoru takes one easy step on the engawa, and Kenshin is acutely aware of the curve of her body through her thin yukata. Kaoru prefers not to dry off completely after they bathe. Instead, she lets the silk of her sleeping robe wick away any lingering moisture at the leisure of its threading. The material hugs her frame deliciously, every dip outlined before him and his mouth goes dry. She reaches toward the pillar to her left as she moves to push up, but Kenshin's wandering hand stops her. He follows along the length of her leg, entranced by the strong muscles of her lower half, his slow stroke magnified by the smooth texture of the thin barrier. 

His heart skips a beat as he fixates on path he's traced and the way the silk clings to her. He loves the build of his young wife, the years of kenjutsu strengthening every inch of her lithe body. It fills him with a yearning he can't place, so he offers a small silent prayer for the blessing of finding his equal in this spry shihan dai and moves to show his gratitude. The round of her bottom seduces him as he traces back up and he can't help but cup her gently. 

Kaoru's left heel drops back to the ground. She holds her breath as her husband gives a few steady caresses across her cheeks. It's too tender, too reverent, and it makes her world spin under shut lids. He wants her, he decides, overwhelmed by the pull she has over him, and buries his face in her jasmine scented hair. Both his arms circle around her waist, his right travels to her hiked leg on the platform, his left curling across her chest. He hugs her close then, feeling her warmth radiate through the thin material. 

"This one thinks right here would be a good place to find out, that I do," he breathes into her ear. She falls apart then, disarmed by the stark contrast of his polite words and the smoldering heat of his tone. 

Kenshin continues to touch her over her clothes, the silk pulling against his calloused fingers, but Kaoru doesn't mind. Its another private branding of sorts, what's hers is his and vice versa. She thinks fondly of small tears in her hakama, stray threads on his navy kimono, traces of their passion lingering on their most common belongings. It astonishes her by what wanton things they become when no one else is looking. 

Kenshins hands leave her then as he steps back. The air seams to still, and both her hands come to grip around the pillar in front of her. Whether she shivers from a light gust or in anticipation, she can't say. She wants him, she knows, feels it pool heavily between her legs, and let's her resolve melt away in the open air of their yard. 

Without missing a beat, Kaoru juts her pelvis back toward him, the flare of her hips accentuate her figure and Kenshin indulges. It's as if she heard his silent prayer as clear as the groan that escapes his lips. He flips the end of her robe over and into the belt at her waist and drops until he's eye level with her bottom. Kenshin usually likes to take his time as his tongue works her, but not tonight, not as his teeth graze her round flesh and he moves lower. She's practically steaming once his mouth finds her center. She's spread her legs to accommodate his face as he pulses his tongue across her. 

It's not enough, never enough, that mouth of his, lips loose, tongue firm. Kaoru would never believe him, but gods, if she asked him, nothing makes him stiffer, hungrier, than when he gets to bring her over the edge this way. He chances broader strokes along her, in her, and up where she'd never allow him to venture. He swirls his tongue against the puckered entrance just once and she mewls at his boldness. He dares a counter swirl, but right now isn't about him, he remembers, and reluctantly slows his ministrations. He saddles up behind her, only after parting with a soft pop from the love bite he leaves in her thigh. It'll color soon, he can tell already, a lasting mark that Kaoru will blush over in the coming days. 

Despite the grip of her hands around the support, she's completely limp, patient and ready. Kenshin senses this more than her feels it. He's a little hazy around the edges, drunk with lust, his instincts and nerve guiding his every move. There's no ceremony when he enters her. It's swift as he slides in with ease—his Kaoru, so open, always trusting, nothing he takes for granted. Their breaths hitch as they settle into each other. One beat, then another. And then their practiced dance sets astride.

Kaoru's lost sense of where she ends and Kenshin begins. They roll in tandem, sweet friction pushing and pulling them deeper into each other. Kenshin shifts from pressing himself against her, sighing into her back, to grabbing her hips and meeting them firmly with his own. Every angle feels new and familiar all at once. It's more than she's bargained for, she feels so full, just brimming with more desire, more pleasure, more Kenshin than she ever imagined. No gasp for air can fill her lungs, no gulp can wet her mouth, everything has been reduced to their measured pace. 

" _Ken-shin_ ," each syllable comes out as a heavy plea. She reaches behind and digs crescents into his pert flesh to bring him closer. Her thighs are trembling as he pounds into her, lost in the abandon of her slick center, the very audible slap of flesh between them escalating. His right leg hikes up under hers on the engawa and the new leverage sends stars behind both of their eyes. 

It's not long now, Kenshin feels, as she leans heavily back against him. He lightly slides two fingers against her throbbing nub, and holds them there, completely still as he halts, fully sheathed inside her. Kenshin half expects Kaoru to protest against the suspense, expects her to yelp and battle to fall back into rhythm, take advantage of her palm pressed against his backside, but she doesn't. He waits. She waits longer. Her breath is coming erratically as he feels her inner muscles flex around him. 

Ah, it dawns on him. She doesn't want this to end—she's clinging to the last thread of that sweet tension she can before she snaps. Oh, this is rare; Kenshin wants to keep this moment with him forever. She's so close, so close and he's going to hurdle over if he doesn't do something quickly. 

He leans in, to her ear and huffs out, "This unworthy one can't come until you do, beloved. You know this, that you do." A gentle flick against her punctuates his urgency. She unravels completely, instantaneously, tilting her head back and captures his mouth with hers, all tongue and sheer desperation.

Kaoru's release racks her entire body like lightning and thunder and flash flood rain. She lets him take her there, his hand coaxing her through her undoing and she whimpers endlessly into his mouth. And it's with this Kenshin realizes that his wife, his beautiful, headstrong, resilient, vocal (very, very vocal) wife may be more affected by submitting to him than he would ever think. He hums and stores the concept somewhere in his mind. Deep in his bank of things only he has been and will only be privy to. 

They scurry back to the bathhouse for a quick rinse, giggling mindlessly. Kenshin steals glances at his bliss struck wife shivering at the chilled water. He makes a note to check if the farmer in the market would have his request tomorrow. The older man promised a few weeks back that he'd need to make some asks around the region, but rest assured, Kenshin would bring home the crispest, juiciest Nijisseiki in Tokyo. He hides his smug smirk beneath his bangs; she'll be thrilled, of course, he'd settle for nothing short of the best for his Kaoru.


End file.
